


Still Human

by GlueService



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F, M/M, Teleportation, non-binary hanji
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-02
Updated: 2018-02-20
Packaged: 2019-03-12 04:21:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13539606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GlueService/pseuds/GlueService
Summary: Mikasa can't remember a time when she wasn't being hunted. Dangerous and organized religious zealots seek to wipe out all those with her ability -- a mission Mikasa, her adopted brother Eren, and childhood friend Armin became victims of at a young age, barely escaping but not without consequence. Years later, they now hunt those who hunt them. After all, they can't win their lives back unless they fight.Annie Leonhardt had gone through life with the world in the palm of her hands. Being able to go anywhere at anytime spoiled her, but this easy life comes to an abrupt end when a dark-haired girl who calls herself a 'Jumper' corners her with a warning.“People you don’t want to have noticing you, have noticed.”





	1. Sluggers

**Author's Note:**

> _Teleportation is a gift that came with a cost ___  
>  __  
>  _*_   
>  __  
>  _Jumper: a person with the ability to teleport._   
> 

The breeze is light and the throngs of people seem endless; loud with nonsensical chatter and the traffic is consistently busy. The trees sway just slightly and you’re glad that Eren had suggested to go inside – the bar you find yourselves in is a bistro as well and while he sips at a craft beer, you warm your hands on the sides of the mug of hot tea you’re relishing in.

A little break won’t hurt and besides, it always feels good to be able to just sit back and not worry about anything for just a moment – to just blend in. Glancing outside, you notice that the wind has picked up just slightly and even though you’re inside now, you instinctively pull up your scarf over your chin.

The restaurant is quaint and the menu is affordable. It’s bustling to the point of almost claustrophobic and you’re grateful that you’ve been able to snag the only open high-table and chairs. The babble is constant and the walls seem to only amplify the sound into an annoying echo, but the view is nice. It’s not directly in front of Central Park but close enough where the foliage and autumn browns and reds can be made out.

“I hate New York.” Eren mutters, taking a sip of his drink.

“I love New York.” You counter obnoxiously and he rolls his eyes.

“It’s too noisy. Too loud, too busy.”

“You’re too picky. The city is unique and charming, get over yourself.” He huffs at your laugh, looking out the window and resting his chin on his forearms, idly playing with his bottle. 

“Whatever. After we’re done with our drinks let’s try to figure the situation out quick. I’d rather not be here.” You mock him for being melodramatic and he’s quick to be on the defensive, grumbling about New York always being cold and noisy.

“Better than Alaska.”

“Alaska is at least _pretty_.” Eren defends. “New York isn’t pretty. It’s just a lot of grey concrete and it always _smells_ …”

“It doesn’t always smell, and Alaska is _way colder._ ”

“ _Yes it does_ , and Alaska at least has fresh air and –.” He abruptly stops talking. The sound of air suction and rushing winds makes itself known to your left ear and you feel faint static on your left side, not far from where you’re sitting. You feel a pulse that pinpoints to the inside of the restaurant. Eren whips his head up and around and you do the same. The feeling is unmistakable and you grab his arm, scanning the crowd.

“Eren, you felt that?” He nods his head and you’re a bit taken aback. “Here? Inside? But there’s so many people, what are they thinking?”

“I don’t know, maybe they got tired of pushing through everyone?” His eyes are still scanning the crowd. Only a moment passes when you feel it again – vibrating waves and another pulse and your gaze shifts to the hallway, noticing a girl bump a little too hard into some people. Her hair shifts under a gust of wind but you’re indoors.

“That has to be her.” You say, watching as she pushes past people before walking into what looks like a bathroom. “Do you think she might be why...?” You trail off and he shrugs, downing his beer.

“Probably. You should go into the bathroom though, find out.” He pauses at your irked look. “What? I obviously can’t follow her in there.”

So you make your way over. It’s just as crowded inside and a line has formed but you see her waiting near the front, hands in the pocket of her hoodie. You stand there, contemplating how to approach her. _But it’s definitely her, there’s no doubt about it._ You wait when she goes into a stall and wait still when she comes out and goes to the sink. A confrontation here would be stupid and so you follow her when she leaves into the restaurant, then out the front door. You glance over before opening said doors to find your brother only to realize that he’s gone and just before you have time to wonder where he is, your phone buzzes.

 _Got a lead from Ymir, went to go check it out. Keep on her trail._ You wish he had waited to tell you before running off by himself – you really hate how reckless he can be. 

So you follow her and try to keep your distance so as to not raise any suspicions. She’s short and it’s getting more and more difficult to keep up with her when the crowd seems to swallow her whole. But you keep at it and the crowds become just a tad bit thinner the further from Central Park the two of you go. She approaches a parking deck, walking to the lower levels and aside from the cars coming in and out, the only people inside the deck are the ones standing by the elevator. She walks down another level and towards a set of doors that lead to a staircase.

Your pace quickens when the door shuts behind her, wary about losing her. You open it and before you can gage what is happening a hand grabs you, you’re slammed chest to the wall, one hand twisted behind your back and the suddenness of it knocks the wind out of you. She has you pinned and when you turn your head to meet her gaze, she’s glaring daggers. It takes you a second to fully realize the position you’re in and you can’t help feeling a small bubble of admiration well up at her surprise attack.

You push back to test her grip but she only pushes back harder. You hum in approval and cease your struggle.

“You’re fast.”

“You’re following me.”

“That’s good. That’s really good.” You’ve ignored her statement, opting instead to praise her actions but this only makes her angrier.

 _“Why are you following me?_ ” She spits out rather icily but even still you can’t help the small grin that comes about.

“Let me go so we can talk.”

_“Not a chance.”_

“Stubborn…at least those reflexes of yours will come in handy.” She lets out a growl of frustration at your dodging of her questions and you decide to make your move, hooking your leg around to wrap it around hers. You feel her body tense up in preparation for a counter-attack but you only bring her closer, twisting your body around as you do. There is static, the sound of air suction and then you’re both on the other side of the room. Her back is to the wall and the force of your jump cracks the concrete behind her. Your arm is pushing against her chest and she’s looking up at you, slack jawed and eyes in wide bewilderment.

She’s silent and you’re assuming it’s because she is at a loss for words, so you take this moment to speak up. “But, you can always be _faster._ ”

“Wh—you – how?” She sputters out. “You just…” She stammers, wide blue eyes burrowing into yours with slight fear and absolute shock. You furrow your eyebrows together and tilt your head to one side at her reaction. “You followed me…”

“I did because I noticed you jump.” She blinks. “Back at the restaurant. Were you really so impatient that you had to jump through the crowd? That was really irresponsible and stupid --.”

“Jump?” She interrupts you and you’re not really sure what she’s asking so you continue.

“You need to be more careful about your jumping.” She only looks at you in confusion, stuttering out a perplexed _“…jumping?”_

“People you don’t want to have noticing you, have noticed.” She becomes slack jawed.

“…you mean teleport?”

“Uh…yes. Do you not…know the word?” A few seconds pass before she shakes her head and you run a hand through your hair, thinking of what else you should say.

“You can…also…” She says aloud in slight bewilderment and understanding finally dawns onto you.

“You didn’t think you were the only one, did you?” You ask in an almost exasperated – disappointed – tone. She blinks and you drop your arm from her chest, taking a step back. She’s still leaning against the wall, brushing hair out of her face. “Am I really the only other Jumper you’ve met?”

She doesn’t answer you but looks at you incredulously and you can physically see her body tense up when you take a step towards her. Something must be said to ease her wariness and it takes a moment for you to come up with the right words.

“I’m one of you. I’m not some government agent trying to dissect or kidnap you. If there’s one quality about me that should make you _trust me_ , it’s our shared ability.”

She chews on her lip and it’s embarrassing how your eyes immediately flicker down. _She’s pretty_ you muse, _and she’s probably who they’re looking for._

You stand there for a moment and let what you said sink in, wracking your brain for a follow up in the meantime but you find it difficult to figure the words out. After all, you had expected her to already... _know_ \-- you hadn't expected her obliviousness and now, you're at a loss. 

“You don’t know anything, do you?” She scowls at you.

“I don’t know why you’re being so ambiguous.”

“Do you know what ‘Paladins’ are?” She stutters out a perplexed _what?_ sounding more confused and irritated now than she was seconds ago. You repeat the word and she looks at you dumbfounded, eyebrows furrowed together.

“No…no, I don’t know what the fuck a ‘ _Paladin_ ’ is.” She spits the word out and she’s obviously frustrated. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, and I don’t know _you_.” She takes a step forward in a challenging manner, eyes narrowed into a glare as she stares you down. “It’s nice to meet another… _Jumper_ , or whatever the fuck you call it –“

“You really are clueless.” You didn’t exactly mean to say aloud what you had been thinking but it couldn’t be helped; how did she last this long without being noticed?

Her grimace turns darker. “If you’re just gonna keep insulting me –“

“I’m not insulting you, I’m just…” You speak softly, taking a second to clear your throat. “How is that even possible?”

“Like I was saying, nice to meet you but if you’re going to keep up the riddles then I’m leaving.” She’s turning around but you grab her arm to stop her. This only makes her violently yank it out of your grasp. Before you can call out a _wait_ she’s gone, the force of it blowing your hair back. It was a sloppy jump – there are cracks on the walls and a small dent on the floor. It was probably more instinctual and closer to a _flinch_ than anything else and so, with a sigh, you go through the scar she left behind before it closes.

She’s briskly walking ahead of you and it’s aggravating that she had dropped off right smack in the middle of Central Park. You glance around and are relieved that no one has noticed, but it was risky. _She’s reckless._

“You really don’t care who sees you, do you?” She whips her head back at hearing your voice, balling her fists at her side.

“Quit _following_ me.” You feel your phone buzz but ignore it.

“Do you realize what will happen if you’re not careful? Do you not _care_ who notices?”

“ _Of course I care!_ I’m not trying to have the CIA kidnap me –“

 “The CIA are the _least_ of your worries.”

“Who are you?” You stop talking, more surprised at the change of subject and begin thinking of the right response but she continues before you can really think of one. “Why do you keep chasing after me? Who are you to show up and –“

“I’m trying to _warn you_.” This only seems to make her angrier as she walks up to you, inches apart and looking straight into your eyes. Hers are steel blue and sharp enough to make you just a bit nervous.

“How kind of you, but I can take care of myself.” Her voice is low and menacing. _Who knew such a short girl could be this scary._ She turns to walk away and you’re at a loss on what you should do as you stand there, watching her retreating form.

“New York, specifically Central Park, is being watched.” You call out and she stops in her tracks, only slightly turning her head back. “People you don’t want to have noticing you, have noticed.” She doesn’t say anything, brushing blonde hair out of her face before she continues walking. She disappears into the crowd and for a moment you feel a hint of worry for the girl – she doesn’t seem to take your warning seriously and its aggravating.

She was quick to brush you off and it was strange – shouldn’t she have been curious about meeting another Jumper?

Your phone buzzes again so you pull it out of the pocket of your jacket, realizing that it was Eren who had been trying to contact you.

_Have you caught up to her?_

_I felt a jump._

_I felt two more, are you with her?_

_Everything ok?_

You call him and he answers on the first ring.

_“Mikasa, what the fuck.”_

“I was busy. She was stubborn and…complicated.”

_“So you caught up to her.”_

“Yes, but she doesn’t seem to know about…anything, really?”

 _“By ‘anything’ do you mean Paladins and shit?_ ”

“Sure. I’ll explain when I see you, but where’d you run off to?”

 _“I’m at the…110 th Street Station um…Central Park North…red 2,3.”_ He’s obviously reading from a sign and you can’t help chuckling at him.

“So should I take the subway or walk?”

_“Maybe walk. I’m sitting on a bench right now and one of the guys working the kiosk is a little too familiar. He hasn’t seen me but if he spots you on one of the trains…”_

“Not worth the risk. Right. So is he the lead?”

 _“One of them. Ymir was able to tune in on a call and discovered that a group is going to meet up here in about an hour. She was only able to tap in under the radar for thirty seconds, but it gave us enough information. The guy working the kiosk is a Sensitive and once they’ve rendezvoused, there should be three of them in total.”_ You let out a low whistle.

“If the girl I followed is the one they’re looking for, then it doesn’t make sense for them to send more than two for just one.”

_“Maybe not but then again, haven’t you noticed that they’ve been sending out larger and larger groups to catch us? They’re being careful.”_

“I guess we’ve dwindled their numbers down enough to be wary of more casualties.”

_“That’s what I’m thinking. Anyway, try to get here quick. I think if we play our cards right we can get the jump on them.”_

You hang up and walk to the sidewalk, asking a stranger for directions then heading to where she pointed. It doesn’t take long to get to the station and as you walk down the steps, you immediately spot that familiar brown mop of hair belonging to your adopted sibling. Sitting down next to him, you quietly fill him in on your earlier encounter with the stubborn girl. He’s just as surprised as you were at hearing how seemingly clueless she is and just as quiet throughout your explanation.

He only interrupts you when you mention how you had to go through her jump scar back to Central Park. “The kiosk guy is a Sensitive, you know he felt that.”

“I realize that now. He’s definitely reported his senses and I wouldn’t be surprised if they brought more people in.”

“Let’s just be prepared for the worst.” He tells you in a soft voice, gently bumping your shoulder with his in an affectionate manner. “So why’d you let her walk away?” You shrug.

“She was stubborn, like I said, but also because I figured these guys – “ you motion towards the kiosk. “ - are more important to keep an eye on. Besides, if anything, they’ll lead us to her.” He hums.

“Think they’ll find her today?”

“It’s likely. Hopefully we’re around when they do.” You pause, pursing your lips. “It’s just infuriating how little she seemed to care, but I guess I can’t blame her. She really has no idea…”

“That ignorance can only last for so long.” He lets out a huff. “She’s fucking lucky….but, they’re here and I’m betting you it’s her they’re looking for.” You hum and lean back on the bench, idly watching the crowds of people shuffling through the pillars and columns and each other. Eren taps your shoulder and when you look over, his smile is in a crooked jest. “I’m kinda thirsty, might go over there and buy something to drink.” He nods over to the kiosk.

“Don’t be stupid.”

 

*                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                   *

 

It’s your favorite spot to be – quiet, private, the lack of cameras is laughable, and it offers a fantastic view of Central Park. You’re taking small bites of the pastry you bought from the bakery, still warm, and you appreciate the distraction of it all. _How peculiar._ You wipe some chocolate off the corner of your mouth with a brown napkin. _I guess running into another one was to be expected. We were stupid to think we were alone._ Some flakes fall onto your lap and you lazily brush them off, wondering how Reiner and Bertholdt will react once you tell them of your encounter.

You’re not sure why you ran away from the girl. Curiosity told you to stay but you were impatient and she was ambiguous and, although you’ll never admit it to yourself, you felt a slight fear at meeting her. You had no idea who she was or what she wanted and you’re not the type of person to so easily trust anyone. _Even if that person can also teleport…_

The breeze is only colder and stronger on the roof and you wish you had brought a jacket to put on over your hoodie. You think about it for a second before your thoughts drift to your room and you’re there, grabbing the jacket you knew was on your bed. You’re putting it on, only one arm through a sleeve as you go back to the grey concrete you were just at and put your other arm through it. You walk over to lean against the railings on the edge of the roof and gaze out.

It’s a sort of oasis – buying your favorite pastry from your favorite bakery and eating it at the top of a building with Manhattan in view. As soon as you had discovered the spot, you found yourself coming back to it at least once a week.

It’s getting late enough where the sun is beginning to hide behind the tall buildings of the city, painting the sky and horizon in a warm glow. It’s beautiful and it’s the exact kind of distraction you need right now. You take the last few bites of your treat and stuff the trash into your pants pocket, gazing out at the skyline.

It’s quiet, or usually it is, which is why you’re a bit startled when you hear footsteps approaching. You feel your stomach drop but tell yourself to not panic. _It’s just security. They’re gonna tell me I can’t be here and I’ll have to take the elevator down._ You turn and see a group – four people – making their way over. _How did I not hear them open the door to the roof?_

You feel your heartbeat quicken and nervously brush your hair out of your face, standing to greet them. You figure the best way to deal with the situation is to be cordial but they speak first and besides, they’ve already spotted you – the last thing you need is for a group of people to report seeing a blonde woman strangely disappear into thin air on a roof in New York.

“How’d ya get up here, girly?” One of them asks. He’s carrying a briefcase, playing with the handle.

“I walked up the stairs.” You do your best to keep your voice steady, refusing to give away just how nervous their presence has made you. Your mind briefly thinks back to the girl you met earlier and her voice repeats those same words to you, “ _New York, specifically Central Park, is being watched.”_

A gust of wind blows through, some loose papers fly with it, and you stuff your hands into the pocket of your jacket.

“Funny, there’s a lock on that door you know. We had to ask for a key to get up here.” He places his briefcase to the ground, dropping down on a knee to open it.

“I didn’t know the area was restricted, I’ll just…leave.” You only take a few steps towards where you’re assuming the door to roof access is when they pull something out from the inside of their jackets – a long, metallic cylinder. The one kneeling pulls out that same item from his briefcase, along with a smaller object and clicks it into the other one. He’s walking towards you and you want to run, to leave, to _teleport_ but you’re frozen in place and you realize that its fear that is keeping you from moving.

He stands up, leaving the case on the ground and slowly makes his way over to you. “No, there’s no need for that. Stick around for a bit. We can chat about all your other jump sites—“

You barely have time to breathe, to blink, when he holds the cylinder up to his eye as though he were aiming. A cable spits out and you flinch – teleport – away. You’re not sure where you end up but you fall over on grass and feel a stinging white hot pain shoot through your leg. You cry out as sparks of electricity wrack your body and you look down to see a sparking cable wrapped around your ankle.

Then you feel a tug and you’re being pulled back. Green and brown and red foliage transform into a concrete roof and you stumble back. The wind is knocked out of you when you fall over and he’s there, looking down at you with a terrifying grin.

“Gotcha.” You hear a click as he detaches the end of his weapon, disconnecting the cable from the larger body of it. He jabs the longer part into your stomach and it shoots searing electricity through your body, as though it were a Taser. Your body convulses and your vision goes white for a moment; it barely registers in your mind that you’re turned over on your stomach now, coughing and wheezing when he slams the detached end into the concrete floor next to your head, embedding it deep and you realize that he’s trying to trap you as you feel the cable wrap over your back.

You can feel your body flickering as you try to think of a place to go to but your mind is blank and you can’t keep a straight or consistent thought in your head. The crackle of electricity is buzzing in your ear and he looks back at the group, gesturing towards your helpless body on the ground.

“Well boys, guess I didn’t need backup for this one. She was _too_ easy.” He taunts and you struggle against the wires.

“ _Why are you doing this?”_ You cry out through shutters as your body reacts to the electricity searing through your veins. He crouches down to look at you eye-level, smirking and tossing his weapon back and forth in his hands – toying with it. “I haven’t… _done anything_.”

“You exist.” He says in a menacingly low voice and his smirk turns into a wide grin with teeth showing in an absolutely terrifying predatory smile. His finger and thumb plays with a silver chain wrapped around his neck, tugging it out far enough for you to catch a glimpse of the gold and red cross that slides and swings from the momentum and you wonder if he intentionally brought it out into view. It glimmers in the sun, so pretty and so faultless as he grips the pendant affectionately with a full hand and it makes your stomach turn.  “And you _shouldn’t_ exist.”

“But...I'm still _human_ , just like you—“ He kicks you in the stomach, knocking the air out of you and you struggle to breathe as another jolt wracks through your body. Your vision blurs and it takes a while to realize that he’s standing up now.

“I’m _nothing_ like you.” He growls out, placing his foot on the small of your back. “You’re a demon. An abomination – you're all the same and you all go bad sooner or later.”  

Your body twitches before you focus on a spot ahead of you, willing your mind to concentrate and work through the stuttering jolts that have fogged your brain. Your move is sloppy and the cable stops you, feeling it tug painfully on your leg as you land a few feet short from where you were trying to be. You’re shaking and you can feel tears prickling at the corners of your eyes. “Where you going!” He calls out to you, laughing. “Do you have a friend with ya? Or were all those jumps I felt earlier from you?”

You wonder if this is how you’ll die and a frustrated and desperate sobbing cry escapes past your lips for not leaving sooner. If you had made your escape before he had even opened his briefcase you would be home, alive, and not fighting through rhythmic shocks going through your veins like burning ice. It’s all you can think and do as you lay there panting, trying to catch your breath – you can hear another click behind you and fear drowns you at the thought of him reloading whatever his weapon is. _I don’t know what the fuck that thing is, but it’s not a fucking gun and I’m going to die on this fucking roof._

Something moves in your peripheral and you glance over to your left, head moving just slightly as your body twitches through another jolt. It takes a few seconds for your vision to focus through the blur but after blinking a couple of times, figures are made out and you stop struggling at the surprise and utter bewilderment at seeing who is standing not far from you.

A familiar girl wearing a familiar scarf is accompanied by a boy just slightly taller than her. They’re both standing behind a water tank, backs leaning against the dusty pale-yellow structure carrying metal baseball bats and when you lock gazes with them, the boy holds up a finger to his lips. That girl, she holds her bat cocked back and about to swing, glancing over to you once before taking a step out into the open.

They barely have time to react as she jumps – mid swing – and lands the metal square in the jaw of an unsuspecting guy. Blood splatters and they move their weapons in her direction but she’s gone. The boy is suddenly behind one of them, mid-air as he slams his bat onto the exposed back of one of your attackers. Cables are shot out blindly and the man who had taunted you falls over onto his back. He barely rolls over in time to miss the girl’s oncoming swing from the air, instead hitting the ground where his head once was and it cracks as gravel shoots up. His weapon rolls away.

She’s quick and at realizing her miss, coils it back and jumps to swing it at another one, effectively hitting him in the side as he lets out a pained cry and dodging the cables spitting out at her. He falls over, clutching at his ribs.

 _“You fucking monsters!”_ He cries out.

It’s terrifying and mesmerizing to watch – the two appear and reappear so quickly it’s nearly impossible to keep up with their movements. The man who got the first swing to the head is limp on the ground, one is keeled over and clutching at his ribs but soon enough his body falls limply forward when a bat slams down onto the nape of his neck. But as quick as they are, they aren’t perfect.

The girl gets jabbed in the side with the strange cylinder and she shakes as electricity wracks through her body, dropping her bat. She lets out a cry, turning around to swiftly land a surprisingly powerful punch in his eye before picking up her discarded club, jumping away in time to avoid shooting wires and cables that embed into an air duct behind her instead. You’re baffled at how quickly she was able to recover. _She’s…no,_ they _have done this before._

“ _The projector!_ ” The one on the ground shouts. “ _Use it!_ ” But his cries seem to fall on deaf ears as panicked attacks are made and he crawls over for his weapon only to have the girl suddenly show up to kick him in the face, disappearing just as her foot made contact.

At some point, the boy grabs one of the attackers and disappears with him.

There’s only one left now and he’s on the ground. His weapon is discarded on the floor closer to the two bat wielders than him. He reaches into the inside of his jacket and pulls out a knife, shakily holding it up at them. It’s silent for a moment as they stare each other down.

“Where’d you take him?” His voice is slightly trembling and he stays holding up the knife.

“Sightseeing.” It’s the boy who answers, swinging the bat up so it rests on his shoulder. Even from your distance you can see the red that has painted it and the newly formed dents. “Anywhere in particular you wanna go?” Before he can answer the boy is suddenly right at his side, smashing the hand holding the knife with the metal. He cries out, clutching at his now mangled hand. The blade falls to the ground and the boy kicks it further out, turning to your attacker crying out and cursing on the floor. He wraps his arms around his shoulders, lifts him up and then they’re gone.

Aside from the bodies on the floor, it is now just you and the girl. She drops her bat to the ground, reaching into her pocket and taking out what look like small pliers. She’s walking over to you and crouches down at your feet, cutting the wire that had been holding you captive and the jolts cease. She unwraps it until it tugs at your skin and you realize that it had embedded itself into your ankle. She pulls a glove out from her back pocket, putting it on and hesitates when she grips the wire still stuck to your leg.

“This will…sting.” Before you can really take in what she said she grips onto the cord and yanks it out fast, earning a surprised yelp from you and feeling it tear at the skin just enough to make you hiss. Your ankle starts to throb and when you look down you see your wound slightly bleeding through your jeans and grimace at the low stinging sensation. She stands, holding a hand out to help you up.

You hesitate but only because your mind is reeling. You’re staring up at her and you know your mouth is hanging open. Finally, you clasp hands and she pulls you up, changing the position of her hand into a handshake. It’s comical, the way she gently shakes yours up and down and you feel mental whiplash at the sudden change in pace and severity the situation has become.

“Mikasa.” She offers and it takes you a couple moments to realize that she is introducing herself to you so you answer back.

“Annie.” She hums and drops her hand down to her side while the other fidgets with her scarf.

“Sorry we couldn’t interrupt your encounter sooner, we needed to wait until their guards were down. That golden moment usually comes about when they get cocky.” You look down, playing with the drawstrings of your hoodie only to realize that your hands are trembling. You entwine them together in hopes it will stop the shaking as you think of what to say to your savior.

“Thanks.” You say quietly, and you almost don’t recognize your own voice with how soft and vulnerable it sounded. You look back up at her, into her grey eyes, watching her dark hair be pushed back from a gust of wind that rolled through and how her pale skin seemed to glow from the low setting sun – you wonder if she was still just as pretty back when she confronted you in the parking structure. “I…should’ve listened to you, earlier today.” She offers you a warm smile and you feel yourself blush at admitting your error.

“You’re welcome.” She looks over her shoulder and you can see her crinkling her nose in disgust at seeing the bodies still on the floor. “We’ve made quite a mess. I’ll have to jump them somewhere….anywhere else.” She looks back over to you and a corner of her mouth quirks up. “Don’t run away this time.”

You only nod, watching as she grabs the bodies one by one and disappears. It doesn’t take long and you’re not sure where or how she disposed of them but you don’t ask, preferring not to know. She picks up the metallic cylinders that had been thrown to the floor before walking over to you.

“Can you follow me?”

“….yeah.” And she’s gone. You walk over to where she was, feeling that familiar static and faint hum as you approach. The unclear and hazy jagged lines that look like broken glass can barely be seen but they’re there, and so you go through.


	2. The Den

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Annie has been absolutely oblivious to the world Mikasa is unwillingly introducing her to. She's not sure how to take in this life of 'hunter' and 'hunted' she's been thrust into and Annie feels her stomach drop with each question Mikasa answers. The tall girl's mention of her group of Jumpers' who fight back doesn't do much to ease her worries and her mind keeps reeling back to menacing men on a rooftop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place immediately after Chapter 1.

You’re not sure what you expected, but you tell yourself that you should probably stop assuming normality from now on.

 _Are we underground?_ Is your first thought as you take in the place Mikasa had led you to. The walls, the floor, the roof – everything is a reddish stone and it’s kind of surprising how spacious it is. The room you find yourself in looks as though it were carved out of a mountain.

The floor is covered in mix-matched rugs of varying sizes and planks of wood stuck together in what you are assuming is a makeshift attempt at creating a stable floor against ragged rock. Leaning against the walls are various shelves, tables, workbenches, toolboxes of varying brands and sizes, and one large map of the world with pins, strings of yarn, and pictures tacked onto it.

There is a couch in the middle with a smaller table in front of it. The place is illuminated by lanterns and what look like Christmas lights strung up all around. You think you hear the faint hum of a generator in the distance and as you glance around you notice that there is what looks to be a tunnel, seeing Mikasa walk through it to what you are assuming are other rooms and begin wondering just how big the place is. You’re not sure what to do as you watch her disappear around the corner and awkwardly stand there, waiting. Only a moment goes by when she comes back with some medical supplies and a jar in her hands.

Your ankle throbs just slightly.

She sits on the couch and motions for you to join her but you hesitate, eyeing what she has and looking down at your ankle. She follows your gaze and sighs.

“You won’t need stitches but it’d be best to clean it.” You don’t think you’ve ever felt such intense mental whiplash until now and you stand there, staring at her and it takes a moment to get your thoughts straight and when you do, everything crashes down onto you in drowning abundance.

“What – who _were_ those people?” You cry out in exasperation, ignoring what she had said and your mind is whirling at how nonchalant she’s being, feeling the aftermath beginning to weigh you down – body still tingling to the tips of your fingers and toes and the edges of your vision are just slightly blurry and you try to keep your thoughts balanced but your mind is reeling; still buzzing, still on that roof.

She’s leaning back, looking at you expectantly and you ball your fists at your sides because of how absolutely unbothered she is about it all as though you _hadn’t_ just been attacked by people who knew of your ability, as though she _hadn’t_ just killed in front of you, as though you _weren’t_ just seeing white and as though you _can’t_ still hear the cackle of electricity in the back of your mind.

You almost died.

“I told you already – Paladins. Or did you forget?” You’re seething, eyes narrowed and glaring as she pats the spot next to her on the couch in easing encouragement. “I _did_ warn you.”

You can feel the anger and frustration welling up inside you and you think you hear yourself growl, vision starting to clear back up as you take some steps towards her until you’re in front of where she’s seated. She meets your gaze – unwavering – and pats the seat next to her again but much more slowly this time and in annoying exaggeration. When you don’t move she breathes out a sigh.

“If you sit down, I’ll tell you everything you wanna know.”

You think about it, mind and thoughts now cohesive and as you look into her grey waiting eyes you feel your anger slowly slip away into defeat – you’re in shock and you’re at a loss as to what you should do now but listening to her may be step-one. She did save your life, after all, and you hate admitting that your stubborn nature is really the only reason why you haven’t been cooperative.

Maybe this time you should stop being such a shit and just listen to her.

A minute goes by before you make your way over to the couch and she grabs your leg once you’re sat, placing it on the table. She doesn’t look at you, doesn’t make a sound and you protest as she rolls up your pants past your ankle but she ignores it, swatting your reaching hand away when you tried to – you’re not really sure what you tried to do, but it had something to do with gaining control of the situation.

Your pants brush over the area that was wrapped in wire not too long ago and you wince, looking down to see angry, red marks. Rubbing alcohol is poured onto a cotton swab and you hold back a hiss when she dabs it over your wound. Now sufficiently clean she begins to gingerly rub the contents of the jar over tender skin.

You feel instant relief as the white ointment spreads and sigh before realizing that she is, in fact, touching your skin. “I can do that, you know.” You offer but she only shakes her head.

“Take it as an apology for not jumping in sooner.”

“….sure.” It’s quiet for a moment and the intimacy makes your cheeks warm slightly – it’s strange, but even stranger how okay you are with it. Maybe it’s because she saved your life, or maybe this is you bowing down after being such a stubborn shit earlier, or maybe it’s because even you won’t turn down a pretty girl’s help – no matter how many times you tell yourself you’re not so vain, it’s a very untrue denial – and her fingers are cool and sure and her bottom lip juts out just slightly.

You hadn’t really taken in her features back in New York, more suspicious of her following you over how pretty she is and you’re definitely staring right now. Neither of you make a sound for a while so you can’t help jolting in surprise when she speaks up minutes later.

“This is an antibacterial that will soothe the pain. The injury itself is nothing to worry about so this is mostly for comfort.” You nod and after a moment, she pipes up again in a softer voice. “We’re safe here, in case you were wondering.”

You clear your throat, looking around and really taking in the strange place she’s led you to. “Where is ‘here’? Is this a cave or something?”

“The short answer would be ‘yes’. I can’t really tell you where exactly we are though. It’s a precaution and only I and a few other people know where it is exactly. I _can_ tell you it’s somewhere in the west hemisphere, though.” You’re about to make a clever comeback at her unhelpful answer when a certain set of words she said piques your interest instead.

“’Others’? There are _others_ …”

“You didn’t think it was just you, me, and Eren did you? I can understand if you thought you were alone but after meeting us, don’t you think the notion is kind of ridiculous?” You jab her hip with your other foot and you like the way she gently smiles at the playfulness.

“It’s just…it sounds like there are a _lot_ of others. You’re making it seem like it’s not as rare as I thought it was…” She smiles.

“That’s what we’ve all thought at some point. I’ll introduce you to some friends later, if you’d like?”

“I guess that means I should introduce you to mine.” She stops working on your leg and looks up at you, bemused and with an eyebrow quirked up.

“Can they…?”

“Yeah.”

“But back then…you made it look like you’ve never seen another Jumper?”

“ _We’ve_ never met another Jumper, so we just assumed…” You shrug. “Now that I think about it, it was pretty cocky of us to think we were so unique.”

“…how many is ‘we’?” You hesitate for just a moment, taking in her interested, sparkling eyes, furrowed brows, and slightly open mouth as she anticipates your answer.

“Three of us in total.” Her face scrunches up in bewilderment, stuttering out incoherent words before finally making out a sentence.

“You’re kidding? You _really_ had me believing…are you being serious?” You nod. It’s kind of funny seeing her get so riled up and you bite your lip to prevent the chuckle you can feel bubbling up at her endearing expression. She huffs before putting a finger to her chin as she mulls something over in her head. “You were protecting them, weren’t you?”

“Yeah…I didn’t know you, no offense. Jumper or not, I didn’t know what you really wanted from me and I kinda just wanted to get out of the situation. I don’t do confrontations.”

“Smart. You should probably bring them around, though, ‘cause I’m assuming they’re just as oblivious as you were.” You slightly scowl but you know she’s absolutely right.

“Yeah, I should.” It goes silent and she pays attention to your leg again, reaching into the jar to take out a small dime-sized amount and placing it on the red marks. Maybe it’s just you – one-sided – but you can feel a weight, heaviness, tension in the air and swallow thickly as you think of something to bring noise to the quiet that has taken over. _Since when did you become so talkative?_ Even though you mentally chastise your about-to-be out of character moment you can’t help but _want_ to keep talking to your savior. After all, there’s a good chance you wouldn’t be breathing right now if it weren’t for her and that guy she was with.

Now that you think about it, you wonder who he was and a name she had mentioned earlier pops into your mind.

“Was Eren your partner on the roof?” She nods.

“Yes. He’s my brother –“

“Really? I may not have been up close to him but you two look nothing alike.” She hesitates for just a moment before replying.

“Not by blood, but he’s family. We’ve known each other since we were small.”

“Alright, so then Eren is a…Jumper, then, right? That’s what everyone’s calling it?” She laughs lightly.

“Yeah, he is. Now that I think about it, I have no idea where he took that last Paladin...You might see him again if he shows up.”

You look around and you’re both quiet as she finishes rubbing the soothing ointment. When she’s done, she pulls out gauze and wraps it all around before securing it with tape.

“It’s going to be more of a nuisance than painful. Just don’t rub it.” You nod, pulling down your pants back over your ankle and standing up. She sets the jar down on a shelf before continuing. “We call this place ‘The Den’ –“

“That’s a pretty stupid name.”

“I didn’t come up with it, but it caught on. _Anyways,_ it’s a safe haven for us since it’s in the middle of nowhere. The nearest road is at least twenty miles out and it’s an obscure two-lane with barely any traffic. The likelihood of a Sensitive so much as feeling even a hint of any kind of jumps is small, the land is too expansive, and we’re hidden well enough that scouts by helicopter won’t notice.” She walks over to a shelf full of water bottles, grabbing two and handing you one.

“Thanks. Uh, so what’s a ‘Sensitive’? I’m new to this, remember? I don’t know your slang.” She smiles, taking a sip of water before replying and you do the same.

“They can feel when we ‘arrive’ meaning, they can feel or hear us when we jump _to_ a location, but not when we leave. They’re sensitive to our jumps, thus the name. Eren and I have the same skill. Its how we found you back in New York.”

“So…you felt when I ‘jumped’ to get through the crowd.” You state and she nods, walking over to the large map and beckoning you over. You begin to notice how detailed it is now that you’re up close, seeing pictures of people that were obviously taken from a hidden angle and all the strings and pins connecting to each other. “Paladins.” You mutter. “What an odd name.”

“The strangest.” MIkasa agrees and when you look over at her she’s smiling in amusement but it doesn’t seem to match the look in her eyes. “Did he give you the ‘God speech’ while you were tied up?”

“…he called me an abomination.” She scoffs, letting out a small laugh. “And a demon.”

“Typical.” You look back at the map, taking in all the tacked up pictures.

“One of them was wearing a cross.”  

“They all wear the same cross. You’d think holy people wouldn’t be so violent, right?”

“So they’re part of a religion?”

“Religious extremists. They preach about humanity being underneath God and that people with our ability are products of the Devil.” She glances over at you, smirking a bit. “Medieval, isn’t it?” You let out a breath and she purses her lips before continuing. “They think we’re undermining their God and that the only reason we exist is because we’re demons who live as humans.”

“That’s the most bullshit thing I’ve ever heard.”

“It is, but _they_ –“ she taps on one of the pictures on the wall. “—believe every bit of it. Annie, in case you haven’t figured it out yet, they hunt us – Jumpers. They want nothing more than to wipe us out and will go to great lengths just to get close.”

She glances over at you, gaging your expression and how you’re taking in this information but if you’re being honest with yourself, you’re not sure what to do with it except to keep listening.

“Go on.” You offer, and so she does.

“They’re dangerous and ruthless and have government level access to just about anywhere –“

“ _Government_ level? I thought they were just a group of crazies –“

“Where do you think they got those weapons from? It’s a pretty sophisticated device and I don’t think you can just make it in a garage somewhere.”

“I thought you said the CIA weren’t dangerous?”

“They’re not the CIA and neither the CIA nor the FBI work with them, but at around the same time they were being formed, Paladins slunk their way in as well. We still don’t know why the US government funds them but they do so in secret. Maybe we’re a threat to national security? Maybe they believe all that religious babble? Whatever the reason is, this means they’re protected and we’re not.”

You feel your stomach drop, swallowing thickly and she points to a blown up picture at the top of the map – an older man with short dark hair, a thick mustache, looking over his shoulder and obviously unbeknownst to the fact that his picture was being taken. It seems to have been taken through a window and he’s surrounded by a group of people carrying a briefcase oddly similar to the one your attacker had back on that rooftop.

“This is the man behind it all – Rod Reiss. He’s the head, and he’s the one who goes around indoctrinating and preaching his religious ideals. He doesn’t do any of the fighting, but he recruits and sends out the orders.” Her finger moves to another picture right next to Rod Reiss’, an image of a man wearing a brown hat, with a sharp face and a scraggly stubble. “He’s Reiss’ lapdog. If there’s any Paladin you should be afraid of, it’s him.”

The man in the picture is walking into a building – a close up taken from above. A string connects him with Reiss and multitudes of other yarn web out in intricate patterns, but they consistently link back to the two centered pictures.

“So if I ever run into him…”

“Try not to in the first place.” She’s playing with the ends of her scarf. “There’s a reason Reiss likes him so much – Kenny’s good at his job.”

“Have you ever gone against him?” She hesitates, eyes looking back at the picture of this Kenny.

“He’s _too_ good at his job. He – _they_ …” She trails off, pulling her scarf up over her chin. “…will do anything, hurt anyone, just to get close to you. Annie…” You look over. “This life is lonely and difficult and I’m not sure how you existed for so long without them knowing of you, but I think your luck is running out.” You’re quiet as she looks over the map, wondering what to say.

“I don’t know if I would call myself lucky…”

“Do you have any family?” You look over at her, hesitating. When you don’t answer she takes a step closer to you. “I’m just trying –“

“Just my dad.” She eyes you, mouth just slightly agape as she waits for you to clarify. “My mom’s been…out of the picture since I was little. I might have some distant cousins but he’s the only one I keep contact with.”

“Do you know if your mom has contact with your dad?”

You bite your lip, looking away and feeling a numb tug in your chest at the mention of your mother.

“She’s dead.” You can see Mikasa looking at you from the corner of your eye, and you even see her mouth open and close a few times as she tries to think of how to respond to your bluntness.

“Does he know of your ability?” She says a minute later and you’re glad she decided to steer the conversation elsewhere.

“He shouldn’t.” She clears her throat.

“I…don’t know how else to say this…” You meet her gaze and your chest tightens when you’ve figured out where she’s going with this.

“He doesn’t know anything.”

“Annie…”

“He’s never seen me jump. He doesn’t suspect anything, hasn’t seen me _do_ anything.”

“Just try—“

“He’s part of the military. He’s always gone from home and he’s always busy with work – there’s no way he can be in danger.” She chews on her lip and you can physically see her mulling over what you’ve just blurted out at her.

“Just…keep an eye on him.” Your teeth clench and you inhale sharply through your nose.

“He’ll be fine.” You’re not sure if you’re saying this to Mikasa, or more to yourself but you quickly brush over the slight anxiety that has begun to seep into your mind at the mention of your father.

“Okay.” And she says nothing else, instead playing with the ends of her stupid scarf. “Your friends...” You look back at her and she’s nervously still fiddling with her scarf. “You’ll tell them all this, right?” You nod. “How will they react?”

“I don’t know.”

“They’ll take it seriously, I hope?”

You only shrug in response, shoulders rolling back lazily and she points to an area on the map – New York – and looks over at you, tapping her finger a couple times over the spot. “I would stay away from New York for a while.” You look down, biting your lip and stuffing your hands into your pocket. “I’m sorry, was that city a favorite of yours?” You don’t answer and purse your lips, trying not to let on the anxiety you’re beginning to feel as her earlier statements begin to sink in.

“Nothing I can’t get over.”

“Just don’t be reckless.” You purse your lips at her advice, glancing over the map. Your fingers graze over a certain picture of a familiar looking man. It takes you a few seconds to fully recognize him but when you do, your eyes go wide and you look over at Mikasa in surprise.

“Isn’t he...?” She nods. “From the roof?” She lightly chuckles at your bemused look, reaching over to untack the picture from the wall – the man in the picture may not be grinning at the camera menacingly but those same thin lips and steely face make you flinch just slightly.

“This would probably be a good time to tell you more about our…little group.” She waves her hand over the map. “To put it simply, Paladins hunt us, we hunt Paladins. We’ve realized that for as long as they exist, if we don’t fight back then they win – and we have to at least try. We would have to live the rest of our lives hiding in mountain cabins and looking over our shoulders, with no friends or family. We want to take control of our lives back. _I_ want my life back.”

“You looked like you knew what you were doing back there. I’m kind of impressed.” She chuckles lightly. “You’ve fought them before.” You state and she nods.

“Many times. Some were too close, and I still have the scars.” She pulls down on her scarf to reveal a long, jagged line by her collarbone before pulling down on the collar of her shirt to reveal how far down it went. It’s a shade lighter than the rest of her pale skin and your eyes widen – however she got it, it must’ve hurt. Your ankle tingles and you think back to your own encounter. _Everything_ she’s saying hasn’t exactly sunk in yet – bits of it have begun to embed themselves into your brain and you’re continuously pushing the thoughts back— but you’re acknowledging it.

You’re shocked, to say the least and you’re blatantly staring. “There are more, but this is the biggest one.” She puts her scarf back into place. “Paladins are organized and efficient, but so are we. We got a lead on the New York case,” she nods her head towards you, “because one of our hackers intercepted a call that revealed a lot of information. If it weren’t for her giving us the heads up, there’s a good chance you would be dead right now.”

You swallow thickly at hearing this, noticing how dry your throat suddenly became and take another swig of water.

“I…owe you—“

“No. It’s what we do – we protect each other. I just hope that if I ever find myself in a similar situation, you would come to my aid.”

“Is that why you brought me here? To recruit me?” She’s already shaking her head halfway through your question.

“No. This is just the smartest place to go to after a fight; its lowkey, there’s medical supplies…I’m only explaining what we do because hours ago, you had no idea about any of this.” She waves a hand over the map.

“I guess I appreciate the clarification…” You’re looking over the map again. “Hunters. You hunt each other and whoever has the upper hand wins, huh?” Your voice is soft as you look over the pictures and tacks. “They find you unless you find them first – like a cat and mouse game; how fun.” She’s looking at you muttering to yourself and you can’t bring yourself to look over at her expression. “But if you’re by yourself…I mean, I tried to jump away but they just pulled me back…”

She clears her throat, turning her head only slightly to face you and you can see her mulling over something in her head, her eyes hesitant and looking you over. When she speaks, her voice is soft encouragement.

“Whenever you find yourself in a situation like that again, you’re welcome to seek refuge here.” The fact that she used the word _when_ and not _if_ hadn’t slipped past you and your eyes and head feel heavy, and it takes you a second to realize that it wasn’t too long ago that you were trapped on a rooftop with a terrifying group of people so ready to take your life –

You clench your teeth. “You say that like it _will_ happen again.” She doesn’t answer and you gently sigh, looking down and not meeting her gaze you can so vividly feel on your side. “...will it?” You add on as an afterthought but it was a mistake – a thought you hadn’t meant to say aloud and it comes out so quietly you barely recognize your own voice; so soft, so vulnerable, so _sad_ and the undertones of hope even makes you think it’s pathetic _but you just have to ask_.

“…most likely.” Hers is just as quiet and you’re still not looking at her. “I’m sorry. I know this is a lot to take in and…I have to be blunt; I don’t want to be but I can’t lie to you and say that you’ll never see them again.” You nod, pursing your lips before sucking your bottom in between your teeth.

“Sure. Yeah, I get it. Better this way, I guess.” You halfheartedly shrug your shoulders, rolling them back and forcing your brain to reset and gloss over with indifference as you push suffocating thoughts to the very back – _what will become of my life now? Our lives?_ You clear your throat, hand coming up to play with the drawstring of your hoodie. “So, what is this refuge?”

It’s quiet again and she’s looking at you as if she were trying to figure you out but it’s a given – you were, after all, expressing rare emotional vulnerability moments ago and now you’re back to usual insignificance; you’ve probably given her whiplash but she recovers seconds later, walking over to the middle of the room and you appreciate that she let it go.

She begins to describe this ‘den’ to you and how it’s kept running. Turns out they have a full stock of generators that keep the lights on and make quick trips to any hardware store when supplies run low. Natural air ducts keep the air flowing and cool and it acts closer to an adobe house than a cave; this doesn’t mean that animals haven’t made their way inside and you grimace at her story of finding scorpions every now and then. It’s located in the desert where it barely rains and high enough in the mountains to avoid flash flooding.

She says that traffic through the den is frequent and that there is usually always someone here. Fires are prohibited, mostly because rising smoke can give away its location so any food must be packaged, canned, already cooked, or heated up in the microwave.

“A fucking microwave.” You ask incredulously and she looks at you with her eyebrows furrowed together.

“Well, yeah. It’s small; compact enough where it doesn’t use a whole lot of wattage so it’s convenient.” You’re a bit impressed at how well kept up the place is and your mouth is embarrassingly hanging open – but only a little – as you look around. She motions for you to follow her, walking towards the tunnel she disappeared into earlier.

It’s narrow but not claustrophobic and the walls are marked in a repeating pattern, as though someone were shaping and cutting into it with a tool. Lights are strung up to the roof followed by wires and what you assume to be extension cords – you can’t help but follow it with your gaze. It opens up to a room smaller than the other one, but while the other had a more relaxed atmosphere with its living room-esque decoration, this one seemed to be the headquarters of it all.

Another map is spread across one wall, decorated with the same pins and pictures and strings. The shelves contain what look to be first aid kits – a _lot_ of them. There are three different sized tables put together to create a single, long one with chairs all around. You look over to another wall to see that it is filled with only pictures or drawn sketches of people, sticky notes with descriptions placed over them. There is another tunnel, much smaller than the first you went through and you briefly wonder where it leads to.

There is a mobile white board standing to one side and in the very back of the room, you notice baseball bats – metal and wood – piled over one another or leaning against the wall. This isn’t what makes you nervous, though, it is the assortment of basic weapons that keep your eye. Small knives and bigger blades adorn the shelf hanging over the melee weapons and you can see what look like guns and ammunition resting on the shelf above that. Your gaze lingers on the metal pipes stacked on the last shelf above and jump up in surprise at feeling a hand on your shoulder.

You look over and meet Mikasa’s scrutinizing gaze.

“Is this where you got those bats?” You ask.

“No. We weren’t trying to give away our presence in the area; we actually bought them in a nearby souvenir shop. You didn’t see the ‘Yankees’ logo on them?” You shake your head, wondering whether or not she’s joking and she gently squeezes your shoulder. “Those are just for protection. Things can get…ugly and if we need to quickly grab something that can save our lives, this is where to go.” You nod, not sure what it is that made you linger on this specific corner but you don’t have much time to think about it as the boy – Eren – suddenly arrives in front of the map, plucking down some pictures. They flap a bit from the impact of his arrival.

He looks over his shoulder and glances between you and Mikasa.

“You’re not sparing Miss New York the gory details, are you?” He asks Mikasa and you scowl at the name.

“’Miss New York’?” You spit out, not hiding your irritation one bit. He snorts, thumbing through the stack of pictures he pulled down.

“What’s it like? Being able to just _live_ and jump around all the time, no worries?” He jumps to right in front of you, smirking as he hands a narrow eyed Mikasa the pictures before facing her. “Those should be of everyone from the roof. Can you double check them for me?”

“Don’t be an ass.” She says dryly, as though she has had to tell him this countless times before. He rolls his eyes, taking back the pictures she looked through as she phrases her approval.

“I’m not, besides, she’s the one who’s probably been living it up with the world in the palm of her hands, right?” He’s looking at you now and you glare back at him, meeting him eye for eye as he looks down on you and you can’t help the slight feeling of embarrassment you feel at being called out.  

“Eren…” Mikasa warns but he ignores her, only continuing his annoying rant.

“Probably going on tons of fun holidays, vacationing in the Bahamas, thinking no one would notice – but they have. Hate to say it but you’re caught up now.”

You’re at a loss for words, knowing he’s right and it’s absolutely infuriating. He smirks at your silence and it only pisses you off further.

“Welcome to the war, rookie.” And then he’s gone.

Mikasa sighs beside you, hand rubbing her forehead and you run your own through your hair to fix it back into place.

“I’m sorry, he’s as blunt as he is brash.”

“Smartass and dick seem to be more appropriate words.” You mutter and she sighs again.

“As elementary as it sounds, I’d honestly say he’s just jealous. You’ve gone a long time without any trouble but he – _we_ – were thrown into this...” She hesitates, playing with her scarf. “…we were young.” She says this part much more quietly and you glance over at her, at her glazed expression and dropped shoulders and you’re now feeling the weight of what had really happened earlier barely really beginning to fall on your shoulders.

“I…can’t just go back to how things were before this.” She looks over at you. “He’s right. I fucking did whatever I wanted and now...how long until they find me again? You said so yourself – it’ll eventually happen.”

Your hand falls from playing with the drawstring of your hoodie, brushing your pants pocket and you feel a small lump. Reaching in, you pull out the bag that contained your treat not too long ago. You stare at it; not sure why but your mind begins to go blank as you turn it over in your hand. _Will I be able to go back and buy the same pastry again?_ It’s a stupid thought, but you can’t help the empty pang in your chest as full realization of what happened begins to really dawn on you.

It’s ridiculous that a crumpled up, brown paper bag is the trigger and it takes you a second to realize that your hands are trembling as thoughts of sparking cables, painful shocks shooting through your body, and terrifying smiling men take over.

“I just finished eating a bearclaw when they came.” Your voice isn’t vulnerable but there’s a softness to it, a fact you’d rather not acknowledge. “I never saw it coming and I thought about jumping away but a part of me thought they were just security. Even with your warning…I’m such an idiot.” You berate yourself and the silence that has overcome the room is deafening. You look over at a waste bin just a few feet away from you, reaching out the hand holding the trash and jumping to it so that it dangles right above. You drop it and stand there for a second, only knowing that someone has jumped next to you when you feel wind brush your hair back slightly.

You see black hair out of the corner of your eye and only slightly turn your head to acknowledge her. It takes a while for your gaze to meet hers, mostly to avoid seeing the pity you’re sure she’s wearing but when you look over, only calm greys align with yours.

“You’re alive.” She says and you almost roll your eyes at the clichéd line. “Your injury is minimal and you’re safe now. Just be careful –”

“And if I’m not? Then what?” Your voice comes out a little sharper than you intended but you tell yourself it’s warranted. “You kill these… _Paladins,_ right? It seems like no big deal to you guys to just _take a life but I.._.” You take in a deep breath. “I don’t know if I can do that. I don’t know how to deal with any of this.” You look up to meet her gaze and are only slightly annoyed at the patience in her eyes instead of the pity you’re so sure she _should be_ wearing.

“We have no choice but to accept it.” Mikasa offers, voice soft and arms crossed as she fixes her gaze to the wall straight ahead of her. “You either make the best of it, fight back, or let them decide how you live your life – and they want you dead.” She looks over at you with her steely eyes. “Like I said, I hate to be blunt but it’s necessary.”

You take a deep breath in and a longer one out, closing your eyes and attempting to hold yourself together. It’s all starting to crash down on you and _how the fuck am I going to explain all this to Reiner and Bertl?_

When you open your eyes, you’re looking up at the ceiling and briefly wonder if it’s night or day wherever you are.

“I’m tired. I’m gonna go home now.” You move your head eye level and take another deep breath through your nose.

“Be careful.” You falter for a second, wondering if you imagined her barely heard words. Turning to face Mikasa it’s annoying how her worried eyes and soft voice make your chest thump. You can feel a light warmth in your cheeks as you lock gazes with hers but offer no reply.

You think of your bedroom in Toronto and the scenery changes from red bedrock into a dark, square room but it’s warm and your bed is calling you. You want to do nothing more than fall straight onto it but you know you’ll hate yourself in the morning if you wake up in your jeans and un-brushed teeth. You reluctantly walk away from your inviting covers and once you’ve changed you head out into the hallway towards the bathroom, noticing Reiner and Bertholdt passed out on the couch in the living room with the television still on. They snore loudly, wrapped up in each other.

You roll your eyes and go to shut off the TV, wrinkling your nose at how gross and coupley they can be at times – it is, however, an admittedly welcome distraction and you ease yourself into gentle forgetfulness of the past few hours. Some thoughts make their way to the forefront of your mind but you quickly push them back, steering your thoughts away from the past few hours by thinking about the dishes that have piled up in the sink, or picking up the dirty sock in the hallway.

A part of you is glad they’re asleep, not in the mood for chatter and after you’ve brushed your teeth you slink under the covers. 

You look down just before you pull the bed-sheets over your body at your wrapped ankle, gaze lingering and with a tired sigh, you cover yourself and let sleep overwhelm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really had to figure out how Annie would react to....well, everything. I had this chapter already written out but as I was proofreading it, I found myself basically rewriting the whole thing -- and I rewrote this chapter a _few _times, wracking my brain for how the interaction between the two would go. Would Annie be pissed? Sad? Take in everything with a grain of salt? I also had to keep in mind that she basically almost died and that by itself will mess with someone's head. ALSO, since Mikasa is familiar with Paladins, this encounter was just another day for her while it was _definitely not _for poor Annie.____
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> _So lemme know what you think and if anyone was out of character! Next chapter will come out soonish._  
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**Author's Note:**

> I kept having this picture in my head of Mikasa and Eren hiding behind a wall or something with baseball bats, looking at Annie before they jump in to deal with the attackers. Maybe I'll draw it out one day. Hmm. Anyway, that's chapter 1. Lemme know what you think, or don't. It's cool.  
> I would absolutely love any critiques on writing style/grammar/etc. though, so feel free to put in your two cents. 
> 
> So the movie is kinda trash but I saw it when it came out about ten fucking years ago and ever since then, I've kept an eye out for a Jumper story in every fandom I've ever read fanfic for. The concept of teleportation (Jumpers) and a government/religious group relentlessly hunting them is so intriguing to me that I decided fuuuckit and wrote my own. Needless to say, the concept the movie had was ....better than the actual movie (even though I actually liked the movie when it came out but I was in middle school so). 
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> I don't think you have to watch the movie to get what I'm writing about (and let me know if I'm doing a poor job of explaining things), and if anything just look up some clips of the movie on youtube or some shit -- should be good enough.   
> Btw I've never been to New York so every area I've mentioned is thanks to Google lmao
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> In case you haven't guessed it, Mikannie is the main pairing here but all the pairings I've listed in the tags are definitely still featured in this fic and won't be revealed/mentioned/etc. until later on.


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